Thursday, June 27, 2013

week 22 fanficflashfic

Last week's winner, @BedeliaJane, has selected two prompts for this week's fanficflashfic.

Choose either or both to inspire your writing:












Remember to check the rules

Have your 100 - 200 words submitted by 12:00am Friday, June 28, US EDST.

We want anything and everything: poetry, prose, fanfic, OF. 



JUST GET WRITING!




Leave your entry as a comment - include your word count, and your twitter handle if you have one.

Probably good practice to reference any source material, too. 





FYI - entries that exceed (or are under) the word limits will not be considered by the judge.




P.S. If you look to the right, where it says "flashers," you'll see I'm linking the places where people are posting their flash fics - either on fanfiction.net or on blog sites or whatever. If you'd like me to add you over there, just say so, and include the link with your entry today. Shell xo

32 comments:

  1. @shellisthimbles
    188 ineligible words
    -------------------------



    we stood up high, looking over the city
    the concrete and steel tapestry
    interwoven with green
    and the distant shine of the river

    the wind was loud and carried
    the smell of exhaust and promise
    as it whipped our hair around our faces
    and stuck it to our glossy lips

    with stars in our eyes
    we watched day fade to night
    and the lights of the city flicker on

    our pinky fingers twined
    we promised that this would be
    a city of dreams come true
    of chances taken
    we would grab life by the throat
    we promised to really live

    and didn’t you?

    I was carried along in your slipstream
    as you filled every day with laughter
    surrounded yourself with vibrancy
    immersed yourself in music and art
    and gathered new friends
    you lined your veins with chemicals
    opened your mind and went looking
    for the colours of you soul

    did you see them?

    there is nothing lively or beautiful
    about this place
    sterility and ammonia-heavy air
    suffocate me as I sit beside you
    my pinky twisted around yours again
    silently begging you to remember
    your promise to live

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. this is magnificent
      xx
      @moonlit__girl

      Delete
  2. Word count: 200 words, on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011


    ~~~~~~~~~


    So I hang a little closer. Feel a little giddy. You don’t seem to mind. You kinda lean, too. What does it mean? Is this okay?

    I don’t know how to read you; it feels like you know. But I don’t want to jinx it, what if you get mad?

    I make a weird sound, like deep anguish. You turn your beautiful smile toward me, saying Look at us! We’re on top of the World, girl! On Top of the World!

    You have never been this close, physically or emotionally, and it feels like my time is running out. You are beautiful with your hair blowing all around your happy face.

    So I take a deep breath, smile—and kiss you. Then I kiss you again. And again.

    You stand there, stunned, as my arms come down around you, and suddenly all the air seems to leave your body as you sag into me.

    I hear your mumbled words against my throat, as you burrow deep into my jacket and straight into my heart:

    Thank you. And please. And yes. And, oh, thank god, I thought I was going crazy.

    New York. You did this. You helped me.

    Thank you.

    ~~~~~~~~~


    With a helping hand from Julio. I can never express my gratitude.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Love this! The wanting. . . the needing. . . the relief! ;)

      Delete
  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  4. this was so sweet. just beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Word Count: 200 per GDocs

    @sandyquill

    = = =


    From their observation point, Anna inquires, “Why did he put that sign on it?”

    Her blond companion shrugs, amused. “He’s been trying to sell our home for a long time.” A wry glance. “We haven’t exactly been subtle.”

    An airy snort. “Well, no. It’s our home and he knows it.”

    A car pulls up and the observers lean precariously over the edge of their roof. They see their quasi-nemesis step quickly from the black sedan. “My partner is eager for you to see this property,” he states with a nearly invisible flickering of his eyes toward the roof across the street.

    “Jennifer! It’s as if he can see us!”

    “Well, maybe he can.”

    A young couple joins the agent in front of the brick steps that lead to a deep porch. The woman points and says, “Not haunted? The sign says it’s not haunted?”

    With a tentative smile, the agent nods. “Let’s test that, shall we?”

    “Well?” Jennifer asks a silent question.

    “I have a feeling about them,” Anna says slowly. “It may be time.”

    “Time. . .”

    In less than a moment, the females have disappeared. Across the street, a man sighs in relief. With a strange hint of melancholy.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I really like this one. You set up the scene perfectl. :)

      Delete
  6. @QuinnSkylark
    Words: 166

    I recall as though it were yesterday.
    The fall was crisp and orange and yellow
    But the remnants of green clung heroically to the trees.
    It was a losing battle for them,
    Just like it was for you.

    We looked out over Central Park,
    Leaning close together
    The way sisters often do,
    Resting on the hope of a miracle and the dream of a future.

    The wind blew through the city,
    Between the buildings,
    And rustled my hair and whatever was left of yours--
    Whatever the sickness hadn't claimed.

    And now, here I sit
    Kneeling before a headstone that will never do your life justice,
    And wishing it was our fingers entwining now
    Instead of the way I am running my hand over these blades of grass.

    Are you up in heaven?
    Are you far beyond the moon,
    Looking down on me and my mourning heart and
    Wishing me the same peace that you've found?

    I wish it too.
    Always.
    Perhaps soon, Little Sister,
    Perhaps soon.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This prompt was so fitting for you, seeings as how you were just there! ;)
      So sad, but so beautiful. Love you! *hugs*

      Delete
  7. Sherbert20111
    Wordcount: 200

    “Can we go down now?”

    “Did you see that thing on the news a couple of nights ago”

    “You know I hate heights, love the view, but – yeah. Wait, what thing?”

    “A guy jumped from here.”

    “Here? You’re kidding me.”

    “He had a parachute stashed in the toilets. Anyway, he got through security, suited up and wham.”

    “What a nutjob. What makes people do these things?” She gives a short laugh and sighs. “Sounds like the sort of thing my ex would do. I dumped him me around then too.”

    She looks out across the view, studiously avoiding the drop. “He always had these big ideas of how he was going to make it as a movie stuntman. He was looking for something to make his name. You remember?”

    “I remember.” I swallow hard.

    I remember her telling me all about him.

    I remember running into him at the studios and electrifying accidental touches. How sweet and funny he was, so excited that Red Bull had called him for a contract. How a quick drink turned into a hotel room.

    I remember telling him she was my sister and how my heart went into free-fall when he said he knew.

    ReplyDelete
  8. @bkhchica
    199 words

    “Things are gonna change. You say they won’t, but they will.” Her head leaned on my shoulder.

    “I’m gonna miss you, too. But I’m just going eight blocks away. We’ll still see each other.”

    “That’s what you keep saying, but you’ll be a newlywed. What happens when he gets a promotion across country? ...You’re not just my sister- you’re my best friend.”

    Wiping tears from my eyes, I answered, knowing I couldn’t make predictions. “You’ll always be my best friend; that’s a bridge we’ll have to cross when we get there. Besides, you have Connor... and you’re getting married next year. This is how it’s supposed to be.”

    “I just hate change, Soph,” she sobbed.

    “I know. Me too.” My heart squeezed tightly, bringing back memories of childhood excursions- playing with Barbies, splashing in the creek, and sneaking out in high school.

    Things were changing. It’s what happened when you went from child to adult.

    Fighting it would never do any good.

    “We have to roll with the punches, Sammie.”

    “I know, but I don’t want to,” she whined, lifting her head, pushing a hand through her hair. “I didn’t know growing up would be this hard.”

    “Me neither...”

    ReplyDelete
  9. 199 words

    What is it with my mother and high places? She insisted on meeting me at places with more than 20 storeys whenever she had something momentous to tell me. I could usually judge how extraordinary her news was by the height of the building. I’m sure there was a PhD thesis in there somewhere, but I wasn’t going to write it.

    The last time mom had come to visit me in New York she’d taken me up the Empire State Building to tell me she was getting married again. The thought of what this news could be was making me very nervous.

    As I walked out on to the observation deck I spied her leaning on the railing looking out over Central Park. I went and stood beside her, leaning against her gently.

    “Hi Mom,” I whispered.

    “Livvie” She smiled as she hugged me.

    “So, Mom, what’s the news?”

    “Oh Liv! I’m having a baby! I’m so happy.” She hugged me even tighter.

    “Wow Mom! That’s ...”

    I was stunned. At forty-five my mother was having a baby.

    I had to stop meeting her on top of tall buildings, because one of these days I’d throw myself off one.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Sherbert20111 on FFn
    Wordcount: 200

    “Look! The Japanese maple’s out.”

    “Mom, can you concentrate on the house for a minute? We are not going to live in the garden.”

    “Sure Honey, sure.”

    I follow her up the steps shaking my head. The door is yanked open by a guy who rudely brushes past us, his feet make a syncopated beat on the brick steps. I spin like a top, reaching for the iron railings to steady myself and drowning in spicy aftershave.

    “We’ll see ourselves round,” I call, because seriously, who does that to prospective viewers?

    He makes no sign that he heard me at all. I sniff for the heady scent once more and hum. Definite potential.

    -

    “It could do with a woman’s touch,” Renee tuts at the dustcovers over the furniture, moving to stand by the window. She looks transparent in the sunlight streaming through. “This will do very well,” she says with a gentle sigh. “He won’t sell it once you make yourself known.”

    “Mom!”

    “What? I was a young succubus once too!”

    “And where do you think you’re going?” Sunbeams arrange themselves like feathers either side of her.

    “I’ll be around,” she says, winks once and fades out of sight.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Pinkcookie (at Fanfiction.net)
    200 words

    Looking out over the city from this height I felt peaceful for the first time since all the paperwork was finalized.

    My sister nudged me. “You knew the first time he slapped you it was inevitable.” I sighed. I knew she was right, but what was it about me that kept attracting these mean, miserable men?

    This one had seemed different. He was so caring, so loving, and so very solicitous of me at first. I had married sure that he was different; that he was “the one.”

    A couple months later he was so demeaning, so brutal, and so mentally abusive. Another few months and he was so very physically abusive that I was hospitalized for three days.

    That’s when my sister and I laid out plans to get rid of him. I thought: divorce; she thought: death. We went with her plan.

    Why did you put “Not Haunted” on the for sale sign? “Just to piss him off in case his spirit decided to stay.”

    We looked at each other, entwined our pinky fingers and yelled out together: “Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!” Laughing hysterically, we shredded a copy of the death certificate and threw it over the city below.

    ReplyDelete
  12. @lellabeth
    194 words

    The sign hangs outside a house that’s empty of furniture but full of memories.

    I drive past it every day on the commute to work from my new house - not because I have to but because I need to; because that ceramic and cement is our legacy. You don’t rest there and yet I imagine you filling the cracks between the bricks like mortar, rather than under a grassy plot with a different stone to guarding your final home.

    The ‘not haunted’ banner above the sign is true. There is nothing of you in the house, even though I saw you everywhere anyway. Not the thin, bald-headed and sallow-skinned version that you became for the last few months of life, but the young woman and then the older one too - with a pregnancy bump or holding a child, you were the echo that followed me down the halls.

    I moved the girls and I to a new house, a one without your reminders everywhere. Except it’s not the house you were haunting.

    It’s me.

    You are the ghost of a forever love, and you’ll haunt my heart for as long as I live.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Wow. Rip my heart why don't you? ;) Loved this!

      Delete
  13. @Twilightladies1
    Word Count: Bang on 200

    The house used to stand tall, proud and pristine at the end of the road. It was the kind of house you walked past, wishing you owned one like it.

    Over the years it faded, becoming a shadow of its former self.

    The paint is chipping, windows are cracked and roof riles are missing. What was once glorious is now shameful.

    Kids now play in the street or the new park, instead of the tree swing that was set up for them.

    I can see the owner misses them, and the sound of laughter and joy in his garden—the one he built for her.

    It’s the rumours that have stopped them.

    “He killed his wife,” they whisper. “That house is haunted.”

    I’ve heard them but choose to ignore them. After all, I know what a broken heart looks like.

    As days pass, he becomes frailer. The light in his eye fades and it won’t be long.

    He wants to be united with her.

    I’m okay with that.

    Because I’m her.

    Night falls and the house becomes silent. Tonight he joins me and we can continue our forever.

    The kids don’t need to worry about the house being haunted anymore.

    ReplyDelete
  14. @boomboom_jones
    Word Count: 200

    “Thanks for lunch.”

    “Thank you for inviting me here,” she says, wrapping her arms around her middle a little tighter. The cold doesn’t bother me; it’s all I’ve ever known. She’s from the south – where I’m from too, I guess. “Edward seems like a nice man.”

    “He is.”

    Chancing another peek, I look at her brown eyes. Her nose and mouth, for the thousandth time. We have the same ears.

    “So, June sixteenth?”

    I smile, nodding like a schoolgirl. “I can’t wait…You’ll fly back, though, right? I mean, I want you to be there.”

    “You’re sure, because I don’t want to—”

    “I’m sure.”

    “Okay, then,” she says. She turns and leans back against the railing. “The reception’s going to be lovely up here.”

    “Think so?”

    “Definitely.”

    Her plane leaves at five. It’s over before it’s even started.

    I thought a few hours would be enough, but they haven’t been. I have a half-brother and I don’t want to give this woman back. He’s had her all his life.

    But I have to let go, if only for a little while.

    I text Edward after I drop her at O’Hare. He texts immediately: Still haunted?

    My reply is easy: No.

    ReplyDelete
  15. @everydaybella89
    words: 192
    for flashers: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9371247/1/Bits-and-Pieces

    The neighbors said it was haunted, but the realtor assured me it wasn’t.

    So, being a smart, modern woman, I moved in. There was no such thing as ghosts, after all.

    He started coming in the night—always carefully and silently. He stayed at the foot of my bed the first few weeks. Surprisingly, I wasn’t afraid of him. He looked too sad to be scary.

    Slowly, he began to follow me around the house in the daylight. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I talked to him. He would laugh at my jokes, smile at my stories, and listen better than anyone else I knew. I never managed to ease to the ache from his face, but at least he was more content.

    When I came home one night and couldn’t find him, I knew it was over. The house was no longer haunted. I’d never wanted him to leave. He was the best friend I had. Still, I hoped he was happy and free.

    So, in a way, the neighbors were right—the house was no longer haunted by ghosts. Instead it was haunted by me.

    ReplyDelete
  16. @TiramiSue84
    Word count: 199

    ---------


    “You ready?”

    I know it's rude, but I don't turn to look at her when whispering an “almost” in reply. I was too transfixed by the glorious sight in front of me: from up here everything looked so beautiful, peaceful. The sun was creeping down the horizon to disappear for a while, casting her shadow to exchange colors with darkness. Just like every day.

    In a world where there is no mercy but only a thin sliver of hope at best, where there is no protection only injustice, where you just don't know when and where life will land the next punch, this predictability is comforting.

    One last look, one deep breath and I'm done. “Okay.”

    She's already grabbed the banister trying to hoist herself on it but her body is too damaged to manage alone, so I assist her. “Don't fall,” I say before letting go and climbing on the solid frame myself.

    It's the tallest we'll ever be.

    “Don't let go.” I'm not scared, just repeating a promise.

    Sirens growl out in the distance; it's time. “Never.”

    Hands entwined, we lean toward our escape, our only way out.

    Free at last.

    ReplyDelete
  17. Twitter: @bigblueboat
    word count: 200
    ******************************
    The three of us used to meet every year on this day, looking out over the city we grew up in.

    Today is windier than last year; our hair flicks around our faces, distorting the view. A sigh comes from beside me. I turn.

    “I don’t get why she couldn’t make it. I offered to pick her up.”

    “There are things you don’t know about. She made me promise not to say anything.” I take one last mental picture and push away from the railing. “Come on. Best we get going.”

    I drive us to our rundown neighborhood. Morgan’s house looks as it always did—in desperate need of a lawnmower and fresh paint. I don’t bother knocking and just walk in. The wheelchair takes up most of the front room. Morgan is sprawled on the couch.

    “Hey Miranda, Ruth. Sorry I couldn’t join you. I’m sorta stuck here.” She waves her hand at her body.

    “Don’t worry. I’m sure we can sue about lack of wheelchair access.”

    I sit next to Morgan; Ruth’s standing in the doorway, jaw on the floor.

    “Triplets really do a number on your body. Make sure you two only have one at a time.”

    ReplyDelete
  18. @bebeginja
    Word count: 200

    “Hey ma, you remembered. Thanks for coming.”

    “You said The Place. This is The Place. What are we doing up here?”

    I remember our first time up here. Like some Lion King moment. You said I’d take this city by storm. You’ve always been there, encouraging. Always been straight with me.

    I wonder how I’ve missed the changes. You’ve started dressing differently, spending time “out.” You watch football. Subtle things, but now I see.

    “Mom … what are you doing? ” This, confronting you, is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life. “I know about him. I just want to hear the truth. From you.”

    I watch as your entire countenance changes, from confused to defensive to remorseful. You’re disgusted. With me or yourself, I’m not sure. You turn and look out over the edge. The wind picks up, the combination of chill and nerves makes me shiver uncontrollably.

    “What do expect to happen, hon?” Is that pity or condescension in your voice? You’re not even surprised that I know.

    My suspicions are confirmed. More pain is coming, and I want to tell you that I’ll love you regardless. But, first thing’s first.

    “Tell dad, or I will.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Love the ultimatum! Leaves me wanting more!

      Delete
  19. @megan_timms (sparklymeg)
    Word Count: 196
    FYI: Not Twific - but Rob fans will recognise the characters :)
    _______________________________________________________________


    “Do you think he’s out there somewhere?”

    My hair dances in the wind, a sharp chill biting my cheeks. I pull my coat around me tighter, my body shuddering from the cool air.

    “What, like, haunting us, you mean?” Caroline scoffs, flicking her own hair over her shoulder. She’s gotten so tall since last year, almost as tall as Tyler. She has that same mischievous gleam in her eyes that he had.

    “I don’t know, watching over us?”

    Caroline’s smile is sad, wistful. She’s remembering her brothers. Remembering the non-smoking statue and weekends at the beach house. Tyler’s rattly old bike and ripped checkered shirts.

    I imagine him, cigarette hanging from his lips, all swagger and attitude. He’d float along, a cocky poltergeist, playing tricks, jumping out of closets.

    Maybe he’d be hanging with Michael up there somewhere, scribbling in his notebook; Michael jammin’ on the guitar.

    Caroline reaches out, linking her fingers with mine. Tears flow down her face. It’s the same as last year, the year before, and the year before that.

    “I hope so, Ally. I really hope so.” She sighs. “I miss him so much.”

    “I know,” I say, remembering. “Me too.”

    ReplyDelete
  20. @SerendipitousMC
    Word Count: 198


    “Look,” I said, pointing toward Fifth Avenue, on our left. “There’s one.”

    “Ohhh yeeeaahhh,” she whispered, brows raised. “Good eye.” She squinted. “It’s a guy. How’d you find him?”

    “Most people on Fifth Avenue don’t dress like that. He looks like he doesn’t belong.” I frowned, concentrating harder. “He’s broken.”

    Cautiously, casually, she glanced around. “Can we take him?”

    “I think so. Yes, definitely.”

    “When?”

    It was the end of the day; most of the people who’d been on the observation platform with us had left. “Soon.”

    Her feet drummed the floor like she was Gregory Hines, and her shoulders shifted nervously.

    “Cut it out. If you act so impatient, you’ll blow our cover.”

    “Sorry.” She stilled her legs but I saw more telltale movement under her jacket.

    “Will. You. Stop!”

    “O-KAY!”

    A couple with their child filed out the exit, leaving us alone. “It’s time.”

    “Let’s go!” She tore off her prized leather bomber and the wings bloomed out of her back, flapping in the wind like beautiful, delicate sails.

    “Okay, mister,” I said, removing my coat and setting free my own feathery laurels. “Get ready. You’re about to meet the most important women in your life.”

    ReplyDelete
  21. Twitter: @hummingbirdFF
    Word count: 200

    ~~~

    It’s a windy evening. Of course it is.

    The Doctor is never gone for long.

    As I take in the beautiful sunset in front of me, my intense awareness of the empty space next to me—the space where you used to stand—tries to crush me.

    You’ve been ever-present in my thoughts, haunting every step I take in this city.
    But it has been years since you’ve tread them with me.

    I take a deep breath, letting every aching moment of this day, this self-imposed trip down memory lane, flow through me.

    I can feel it burn through me, and my lungs start to ache. However, I know what breathing out will mean.

    As a tear slips from my eye, I can’t hold it any longer. The breath leaves my body with a gasp, and with it, I let go of every painful memory, every regret.

    The Doctor swoops from behind me, taking my pain on his waves and making your ghost float away across the darkening ocean with it.

    Tears of relief now stream down my face; I finally feel I can take a breath that doesn’t rush back out of the hole you left in my heart.

    ~~~

    Historical information:
    “The Cape Doctor is the local name for the strong south-eastern wind – also known as South-Easter - that blows from False Bay and funnels through to Cape Town and Blouberg. It is said to clear all pollution in the city and across the Cape Flats, offering an amazing clear sky and view of the Mother City.”

    ~~~

    ReplyDelete
  22. @ordinary_vamp
    198 words

    ~:~

    my pen falls from my hand
    loose and lost,
    my grip is
    spent.

    i feel my hold on the world
    (in the world
    around the world)
    gone.

    I am isolated by the flowers
    on the walls
    and the scent in the air—
    yours.

    i sense you, just beyond,
    ahead
    or perhaps i feel you linger
    behind.

    you are the moment of shivers
    after a summer breeze
    before i feel the sun—
    sting.

    you are the mist,
    hazy and haunting,
    before you are burned away,
    lost.

    do you remember you
    argument over the couches?
    You promised i would love them.

    you are gone, but the sofas stay.

    i cling to the little things about you.
    i sleep on the couch,
    the corduroy a comfort.

    Emily Dickinson is at my side.
    her tiny poems with big impact
    are tucked in my wallet
    my jacket,
    my undershirt,
    beside my heart.

    i feel you in her words,
    written in your hand
    on yellow paper
    and one in the margins of
    The Hobbit

    your blankets, made with your hands
    wrap around me
    surround me
    at night.

    i imagine it's you.

    you are everywhere in this house
    and i am haunted by your presence.

    ReplyDelete
  23. Pinkcookie (at Fanfiction.net)
    200 words

    Standing in the whipping wind, I can sense you by my side. My sister, my twin, myself. I miss you so much. I have the last email that you sent to me. It was hilarious and so like you that I can’t stand it.

    “Hi Chrissy! Drop me a note and tell me anything! My life has been nothing but dentist appointments lately. I’m having a root canal this morning. I am reduced to taking photos of my breakfast for entertainment. The attached photo is of my toast from this morning. As I was eating around the edges, I happened to glance at it and think to myself: "self, that looks like the United States...except Florida is real short...but aside from that.....I wonder what the other side looks like?" So, I turned it over and said to myself, "damn, self, that looks like a chicken...I should take pictures and send them to Chrissy...she'd like seeing toast USA and chicken." So, here are the pictures! I’m late! Gotta run! Pam”

    Why did you have to speed? The dentist could have waited five minutes.

    When I came to go through your things, I ate that stale USA/chicken toast and cried for us.

    ReplyDelete
  24. @ChocoMG2112
    Word count: 199


    I stood at the window and gazed down at the sign in the yard.

    “Not Haunted,” I whispered. “How can people have lived in this house and then had the unmitigated gall to proclaim that it is not haunted?”

    The voice of my beloved echoed in my head.

    “Dear, you realize it is only a falsehood to draw the curious.”

    I chuckled deeply. “Yes, I know.” I pressed my face to the window and gave it a gruesome, desiccated appearance. The dog in the yard across the street saw me and began howling in terror.

    “Stop tormenting that poor dog.”

    I felt the slight caress of wind across my cheek as by beloved’s essence surrounded me. “This last couple simply was not right.” An imagined kiss touched my lips. “Patience, my dear. We will find them.” It was the remembrance of her living touch that kept me going.

    “Yes, my sweet. Patience.”

    Instantly, the atmosphere of the house calmed then exploded with crackling electricity. I whirled and stared at the portrait of my beautiful wife. “We are saved.”

    Downstairs, the couple walked into the house and greeted the realtor.

    “Hi, I’m Edward Cullen and this is my wife Isabella.”

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Ooooh, nice. I love the atmosphere you set up. Well done! :)

      Delete
  25. Two best friends that have been through everything together,
    Georgina and Stacey,
    Two birds of a feather,
    Escaped to NYC for the weekend.

    One of the touristy stops the ladies just “had” to do:
    The 70th Floor Observation Deck, the Top of the Rock

    Georgina and Stacey had always been an unlikely pair,
    One liked the higher quality clothing with flair,
    The other lucky to have something so she wasn’t bare

    They had been through high school bullies,
    Even going to college on opposite coasts.
    Each had married, and with kids to boast
    Every day they spoke, and ended their day with a tight squeeze

    So here they were at the Top of the Rock
    Each of them with something to say, watching the other like a hawk

    “My cancer came back,” Stacey blurted. Her sandy-blonde hair wrapped around her face as a wind gust pushed her against the iron railing.

    Georgina shivered, alerted at the news. She wrapped her arms around her small frame and shifted her stance towards her friend, the love for her unfailing. “Okay. So what’s our plan of attack?”

    @LouiseClark75
    184 words

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